I skipped my regular routine attending church services in the morning that Friday. A week ago, I have already informed our pastor that I plan to attend the Industrial Area church service instead in the evening. I also missed out our church choir practice that night, which I am so sad about.

We braved the dusty road leading to Industrial Area. When we have arrived at the place, it was a regular accommodation building intended for company workers. The road leading to the building is quite notorious with potholes and mountain of construction debris on the side. We reach the worship place after winding up seven staircases worth of our stamina, of climbing the steps. The place of worship is located in the rooftop. About 24 sq.m. approximately, capable of seating around 20 people, right there along with the clothesline of wet laundry left out to dry.

The truth is, I am not expecting it. Of all places, to hold a church service. A rooftop towering over other rooftops of factory buildings in the midst of desert wind and the usual darkness of the evening. I am used to attending house of worship with the comfort of sheltering oneself against the external elements, such as rain, heat and dry wind. That night is a wake up call. Believers are called upon to honor the Sabbath, wherever, whenever and whatever it takes. Be it under the shade of the tree, or under the canopy of the bridge, or an open field.

I am deeply humbled by the fact that here in the wide stretch of the desert, away from the comforts of the homeland, people who are disciplined in faith, are braving the routinary grind of their overseas life, partially isolated to the urban centers. This is mission’s work, a life dedicated to the cause of bringing the Gospel to the far reaches of places. Administering the continuous flow of the message and strengthening people’s faith in God.

I admire my pastor, who is a missionary himself, for the kind of passion he have for the lost souls and bringing them all to Christian faith. His silent ways are a steady yet constant reminder that complacency has no place in Christian service. Believers are ought to steer clear of their comfort zones, sacrificing time and effort for building up Christ’s work and taking upon each the individual God’s calling in putting into action all the Christian training they have learned.

I admire my friend Grace, who chose to become a full-time missionary, while administering translation of the gospel to the native tounges of the tribes among the hinterlands of Mindanao and Luzon back home. She already had the chance to go to India, for some introductory mission’s work as part of her trainings.

Sometimes, it is a pity, when I hear myself, complaining about being so tired to get up early in the morning to begin my morning prayers. Sometimes, it is a pity, when I see myself, scrambling over reading best-sellers in the night rather than having a bible reading of a chapter or two. Now it occured to me, that what I am doing for the kingdom is not enough. Christian life calls for able and willing men of faith to stand up and do the work. Whatever the circumstances may be or a situation they are in.

The next time, I will go to the Industrial Area to have my Friday church service there. I need to listen to what God is saying to me, visually.

Hames

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Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

The Book

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a mysterious box with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker—his classmate and crush—who committed suicide two weeks earlier.
On tape, Hannah explains that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out how he made the list.